Cash or Credit
by Ignited
Summary: Cordelia manages to convince Angel that there's another shade besides black for clothes.


  
  
Title: "Cash or Credit - Part 1"  
Author: Ignited  
E-Mail: ignitedangel@aol.com (feedback is appreciated)  
Rating: PG-13  
Author's Notes: Set between the Season 2 Episodes "Judgment" and "Are You Now Or Have You Ever Been." Angel's still living at Cordy's. Feedback is appreciated.  
Distribution: Just ask.  
Summary: Cordelia manages to convince Angel that there's another shade besides black for clothes.  
  
  
  
Angel could feel the hearts beating all around him. The tension in the air. The hushed whispers as those around him quietly tried to do what they came for. Ready to pounce at any moment, his fingers flexed, aching to fight. It was the worst of all places. The kind of place where one could fine the worst of humanity. And the busiest, intent on getting what they wanted, no matter the cost.  
  
It was...the mall.  
  
And people actually go to these places, for fun? Angel wondered silently, staring at the tiled floor. Why couldn't I be fighting minions of hell in a dark and musty lair, anything but...the mall?  
  
"-so what do you think, Angel?"  
  
"Huh?" Angel blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. He glanced over to Cordelia Chase, his secretary at Angel Investigations. She looked lovely in a light grey tanktop with a matching dark grey skirt, her long chocolate hair pulled back into a pony tail. A little uncomfortable, Angel shifted his weight, hands gripping the few shopping bags in his clutches.  
  
Cordelia rolled her eyes at him, gesturing towards the white silk shirt she was fingering. "Don't you ever pay attention? I just said that this would look great on you!"  
  
"It's...white."  
  
"Oh, brother." Cordelia yanked the shirt off the rack, pressing it against his broad chest. "Your clothes are just one color, Angel. If you're gonna live under my roof, you need to follow my rules," she scolded in a mocking parental tone. "There. Just your size."  
She draped the shirt on her arm, walking over to another rack, Angel following reluctantly behind. Looking around the clothing store, Angel again wished he was somewhere else. The stylish clothing store for men contained everything a young and hip man would like to wear in the City of Angels.  
  
Except Angel was neither young nor hip.  
  
The vampire remembered how Cordelia had strode so confidently into his office with that little walk of hers, smiling from ear to ear. "You need clothes," she had said, giving him a bat of her eyes and a little smirk. She kept telling him how a wardrobe of one color wasn't very good, and that he could be more presentable to people if he knew how to dress. And besides that, she also needed to buy some clothes for herself. So why not go together?  
  
She really knew how to get to him with that little smile.  
  
So Angel found himself staring into space as Cordelia rattled on about fabrics and fashion designers, her eyes lit up like a child like Christmas. Every so often, she would take a ridiculously priced shirt or pair of pants off the rack, hold it up to him and nod, adding it to the pile of growing clothes draping off her arm. Angel didn't bother to ask if she needed help, for he was already busy with holding the half dozen large bags of her newly bought clothes.  
  
"Are you done yet?" Angel asked. His arm was starting to cramp...  
  
Cordelia gave him a glare, then her pretty face brightened. "Oh...I almost forgot!"  
  
"Forgot what?"  
  
"C'mon!" Cordelia said, grabbing Angel's elbow and dragging him off to another rack. This time, it was pants. Angel stared at the pants blankly, then glanced towards Cordelia, who looked at him expectantly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Don't you see? Here," Cordelia said, yanking off a pair of pants. His favorite color, black, and made out of leather. "You have to try these on!"  
  
"Uh. I don't know..." Angel mumbled. He remembered his evil days, those months after he had the perfect moment of true happiness. He had become Angelus again, the One with the Angelic Face. And Angelus did have a good sense of style, choosing dark silks and black leather for his wardrobe. He thought those days were over, but apparently not.  
  
Because she was giving him that smile again.  
  
"Fine," Angel agreed reluctantly. "Just don't expect me to wear this...More than once."  
  
Cordelia smiled again, herding him over to the dressing room. The dressing rooms were sectioned off, two separate hallways leading to the ladies's and men's. Each entrance of each hallway faced each other, the actual long hallway filled with more than two dozen dressing rooms. In front of the entrance, and in front of the ceiling to floor length mirror, was a counter and a clerk.  
  
"Miss, Miss," called the clerk, just as Angel and Cordy strode up to the counter. "You and your husband need to take a ticket before you go in."  
  
"He's not my husband," Cordelia replied, while Angel looked uncomfortable.  
  
"Okay. Your uh, boyfriend." The clerk- who looked like a ditzy version of Buffy- could care less. She leaned a bit, taking two tickets out from under the counter.  
  
"I'm not her... husband," Angel said quietly.  
  
"He's my boss, okay?!" Cordelia rolled her eyes.  
  
"Oh. Your *boss*. I see," the clerk said, winking.  
  
"Ugh!" Cordelia yanked the tickets away from the clerk, holding one to Angel. She started to push him in the direction of the rooms.  
  
"Hey, Miss, you can't bring all those items in!" the clerk called, starting to turn to look at them.  
  
"Oh!" Cordy grabbed the clerk's forearm, turning her in the opposite direction. She wanted to prevent the teen from seeing the lack of Angel's reflection.  
  
"Miss... You can only bring five items in at a time."  
  
"Paranoid much? Two words: Hello. Manager," Cordelia said with a grin.  
  
"Okay, okay!"  
  
Cordy gave a satisfied nod as Angel quickly shuffled into the men's dressing room, and into a stall, all the while shaking his head.  
  
After giving a disdainful look to the clerk, she walked into the female dressing room, and a waiting stall.  
  
* * * * *  
  
After pulling off his trenchcoat, Angel glanced to the mass of clothes he put on the small bench. And to the mirror, which showed the door behind him.  
  
Great. Why bother trying them on, when I can't see how I look?  
  
Sighing, Angel wondered for the ninth time that day why he always agreed with Cordelia. Maybe it was 'the look.' The pleading eyes, that pouting mouth, those arched eyebrows...  
  
Just put on the clothes.  
  
After a moment's hesitation, Angel pulled his black shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor. He then picked up the white silk dress shirt Cordy picked out.  
  
Donning the shirt, the vampire started to slip into the enticing leather pants, before he heard the groan. Not coming from him, for he was already involved with grunting and trying to get those god forsaken pants on.  
  
"Angel!"  
  
"... Cordelia?"  
  
"Angel, uh, I need help?!"  
  
"I'm coming, Cordelia," he gritted. Pants half on, Angel reached behind and unlocked the door, falling unceremoniously on his half clad behind. Angel made a beeline to Cordelia's door, pausing outside.  
  
"Oh, good," he heard Cordelia whisper and she unlocked the door and let him in Angel managed to zip the leather pants up, faintly noticing his secretary's brown eyes that scanned his chest, the silk shirt unbuttoned and showing his muscles underneath.  
  
"Umm, I was having some trouble with this dress," Cordelia murmured. She was wearing a tight fitting white number that reached mid thigh, showing her lovely shoulders. Canting her head, she clasped her hands and looked up to him, chewing on her lip. "Can you uh, help me here? I know this is my size, but I can't reach the..."  
  
"The what?"  
  
"The zipper, genius." Cordelia rolled her eyes, exasperated. She tended to do that sometimes, as if she just gave up on her friend, after all she tried to teach him how to "blend in." But Angel knew she was kidding. After all, she had dragged him along on this clothing quest, right?  
  
"I knew that."  
  
"Pfft. Whatever," she muttered, before turning her back to him, a hand clasping her tresses and moving it away from her back and neck. The bare flesh of her back was exposed to him, the zipper parted. Angel cleared his throat, trying not to let his eyes stray to her neck. That part of her was more than enticing, and alluring, making his mouth water. Yet he reigned in his vampiric instincts, as he gently touched her shoulder.  
  
"Wow. Your hands are... cold. Guess that comes with the being dead thing," Cordelia said with a shrug.  
  
"Yeah. Uh." Angel started to zip up her dress, then stopped. The zipper was stuck. "Damn it."  
  
"What? Is it broken or something?"  
  
"The zipper's stuck. Let me... fix it."  
  
"Oh no," Cordelia wailed. "I don't want you to like.. rip it with your vampy powers! You're stronger than you look."  
  
"Vampy powers?" Angel repeated, a brow raised. He almost rolled his eyes, but stopped at the pleading look Cordelia gave him. Not again...  
  
"Okay, okay. I'll just uh... move it." Angel reached into her dress, his cool fingers lightly touching her flesh as he jimmied the zipper mechanism, grunting. After a while, he heard Cordelia... giggling?  
  
"Your fingers are cold," she accused. She flashed a 100 watt smile, looking at the mirror in front of her. She faintly thought about how she looked like a crazy woman, laughing in an empty stall. His reflection wasn't there, but she knew she wasn't alone.  
  
"There." He jiggled the zipper free, slowly zipping up her dress. Angel took a step back in admiration as she twirled, smiling brightly.  
  
"It's so.. Beautiful. Wow." Cordelia paused, glancing in the mirror. Did she really have to choose that lipstick to wear? After all, Xander had called her a hooker some times, all in good fun, but he could be right. And when he was, that was when it hurt. How can Angel actually bother to go out- go shopping with me? She corrected herself silently. I look like a poster girl for the Salvation Army. Except for this dress, but the make up... the hair's all wrong. Even Buffy would've given up on me.  
  
Cordelia sniffed a bit, brow furrowing. In her light mood, she hadn't noticed the pricetag. The black marker letters seemed to leap out for her attention now, especially all those zeros. "Oh... man."  
  
Angel blinked, coming out of his reverie. "What is it?" Cordelia shook her head, remembering her silent friend. How he got that faraway look in his eyes, present physically, but not mentally. Angel always thought about his past. Either the homicidal part of it, or the blonde part of it. And even that could be split into two categories: Darla and, of course, Buffy.  
  
"It's nice and all, but it's too expensive. I can't buy this," Cordelia explained, a bitter tone in her voice. If you only paid me more, instead of spending your money on musty old books and... and rusted weapons or something.  
  
"You should. White's your color." And black, and red, and lavender... Sighing, Angels shoulders slumped, but he reached forward and held the pricetag for a moment, his eyes widening. "In my time, you could buy a portion of property with this money," he growled.  
  
"See my point?" Cordelia gave a quick glance to the mirror once more, before turning to look up at Angel, noticing the surprising look of concern. He's getting all bent out of shape because of a dress? Or maybe 'cause he couldn't stomach the price, which is weird 'cause he can stomach blood and... Cordelia wondered how she could trail off even in her thoughts.  
  
"Besides," Cordy started, her pretty brow furrowing once more. "I shouldn't even wear this dress. I'd make the dress look bad. Look at me, Angel... I'm all... I'm the barrio girl!" She sniffed, raising a hand to her mouth, feeling tears stinging at her eyes.  
  
"Jeez Cordelia, I can't believe you can say that," Angel snapped, only eliciting another near sob for Cordelia. Regretting his mistake, he took a step forward, folding her into his arms. "You look perfectly fine. Exceptionally beautiful, as always. Do we have to argue about this all the time?"  
  
He sounded exasperated, but he didn't tire that easily. Why couldn't the girl just see how attractive she was? How smart and compassionate? Hell, he even liked he lack of tact. Something the Slayerettes had always nagged her about, the way she spoke her mind. Bringing a harsh truth to situations, but some times, people needed to know the truth. After all, shouldn't Angel know best about keeping secrets?  
  
"You're just saying that to make me feel better," Cordelia mumbled. She took a deep breath, her head lying against his head. Another deep breath, and she smelled the cologne he wore. Hey, wasn't that the same cologne I gave him for Christmas? I guess he didn't throw it out then.  
  
"I'll buy you the dress," Angel said, raising an index finger to her lips before she could protest. "I know we have this thing about not using personal money for the office, but seeing you in that dress would make me certainly work better." Time to keep my damn mouth shut, Angel thought to himself, cursing inwardly. Office romances and him should not be in the same sentence. Much less paragraph. Make that book. The last one didn't work out the way he wanted it to... So getting hurt again wasn't on his 'to-do' list.  
  
"If that's the rule, then I can at least chip in for the pants," Cordelia quipped, taking a step away from him, pointing at his pants. "I think they're on sale. And you really look good in those pants." More importantly, in the region around the, ah, hip area. And backside..  
  
"I don't know," Angel trailed off, looking embarrassed. Which he was. Another thing that shouldn't go together. Him and leather pants. Most importantly, homicidal, sarcastic, and treacherous version of him, and leather pants.  
  
"The shirt! The shirt, too. You look nice when you're not wearing black, for a change." Cordelia squinted, pointing at the tell tale moisture on his shirt. "I think I kinda cried on it."  
  
"We can't get it, then. You blessed the shirt. It burns, it burns," Angel drawled, a light tone in his voice. He was joking, of course. As long as she didn't buy him any crucifix shaped accessories, he'd be fine.  
  
"Whatever." Cordelia rolled her eyes, click clacking toward him. She paused, bracing on hand against the stall door to pry off the equally pricey white heels she picked, since they matched with the dress. "I don't need to get these shoes though. They're only for-"  
  
Cordelia wriggled, losing her balance. She fell on her butt, Angel diving to catch her.  
  
"-show."  
  
"Are you alright?" the vampire asked tentatively, lightly holding her forearm. He was on one knee, and for a minute, Cordelia thought he looked as if he was about to propose. She didn't know whether that was a good thing, or not. Not, not a good thing, Cordelia told herself. It shouldn't be...  
  
"I'm fine. Just lost some dignity there, from the fall. Other than that, I'm just peachy."  
  
"Oh." Angel hesitated, started to say something, then clamped his mouth shut. He was leaning close to her, and he could feel her breath against his neck, could sense her quickened pulse. And then, his lips were on hers, quieting her from her ranting about bad shoes. A muffled sound came from her, a pleased noise.  
  
"There's something about this dress, huh?" Cordelia giggled, licking her lips, loving the taste of him. My, my, the boy has some skills.  
  
"Exactly. Will that be cash, or credit, Ms. Chase?" Angel leered at her.  
  
Cordelia let herself melt into his arms, snuggling against his broad chest. As she trailed a finger along his muscles, his protective embrace around her tightened. So maybe she'd buy something- someone- besides that dress after all. 


End file.
